


for reasons we don't understand

by sky_reid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aromantic, Aromantic Louis, Aromantic Zayn, Asexual Harry, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship Negotiation, Sex Positive, Sexual Tension, a bit of stress and anxiety at the beginning and all that jazz, i mean mostly non-explicit, kinda but not really bc pls it's zouis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5550758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis is just being helpful. honestly. the fact that zayn's hot and louis wants his dick is not a factor.</p><p>(it's maybe a bit of a factor.)</p><p>(okay, it's totally a factor.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	for reasons we don't understand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zcinmalik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcinmalik/gifts).



> i don't know why i thought it would be a good idea to do a writing experiment right now but i kinda ended up liking it??? i hope you don't hate it either :)
> 
> (oh and thanks to ema for being the best)

Like a lot of  Louis’ arrangements, it starts with him choking. Not the good kind of choking though; not the one that leaves him light-headed and fuzzy for hours later, that makes him feel powerful and powerless at the same time, that ends with a salty bitter taste on his tongue or a mess on his face. The unattractive kind where he ends up with tea up his nose and down his front. The kind that possibly maybe might kind of make him a bit of an insensitive prick. He likes to think providing orgasms and being an all-around helpful friend later makes up for it.

Anyway. 

It starts with Louis snorting scorching hot tea up his nose as he laughs, spluttering, getting snot all over his face, spilling about half of what’s left in his Styrofoam cup over his scarf and overall just making an arse of himself.

Or, technically, he supposes it starts with Zayn dropping his books as he runs across the dewy grass, staring at them like they’ve personally offended him for much too long, screaming at the top of his lungs and finally falling to his knees and breaking down crying.

Whatever. Louis is possibly a bit too high to work out the exact domino that starts the sequence of events leading to him fucking Zayn into the mattress on a regular basis.

The important thing is that it starts.

*

“Hey, mate, do you need some help?”

“I need the day to have 30 hours and to evolve beyond needing sleep.”

“Here. Careful, they’re a bit muddy.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome. So, exams not going so well?”

“What gave it away?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Might be the minor mental breakdown you just had.”

“You mean, the one that you thought was so funny you couldn’t even swallow before you started laughing?”

“Excuse me, swallowing is no laughing matter—“

“Oh my god—“

“—and yeah, about that. Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Suppose it must’ve been funny to see.”

“See, that just makes me seem an even bigger arsehole—“

“It’s just that, it’s stressful, you know? No matter how early I wake up or how late I go to sleep, I never have enough time. And all the coffee and energy drinks in the world can’t help how tired I am all the time—“

“See, that’s your problem, coffee and energy drinks are just gonna make you even more restless; tea’s the way to go—“

“—and no matter how much I study, I never feel ready before an exam and then I just panic and forget the things I know—“

“Okay, okay, slow down—“

“—and I don’t even have time to be upset about getting shit grades on stuff I actually know because I’m too busy freaking out about other exams I still need to take and—“

“Okay, listen to me. Breathe. You’re alright.”

“I have an exam tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow. Right now, you need to take a deep breath and calm down. Seriously, you need to learn to unwind.”

“And I don’t suppose you know how I can just _do_ that?”

“That's easy – weed and sex. Not necessarily at the same time. Though that’s good too. It worked for me.”

“That’s a bit forward don’t you think? I don’t even know your name.”

“Louis. Nice to meet you…?”

“Zayn.”

*

The world really is a small place, Louis figures. Or rather, the campus is, which is basically the same thing during finals week. Harry, as it turns out, knows Zayn from an elective that they both made the mistake of taking this semester. Louis finds this out when he stumbles drunkenly back to his room after one of Nick’s parties and finds Zayn and Harry’s heads bent together over a book. At three in the fucking morning.

It’s not as awkward as it could be considering Louis is still mostly drunk and has Nick’s come dripping out of his arse while also trying to get into Zayn’s skin-tight jeans. In fact, the whole night ends up a bit of a success; Louis somehow finds himself with his head rested on Harry’s lap and Harry’s fingers carding through his hair as he quizzes them on the history of museums. He catches Zayn watching him a few times. He thinks he sees him shift uncomfortably every time he’s caught, but he’s still a bit too fuzzy on alcohol and a good dicking to be sure.

By the time Harry and Zayn leave to take their exam, Louis is starting to feel a pounding headache behind his temples. He should undress, should shower, should have breakfast or take some painkillers, but he’s been staring at Zayn’s sharp jawline and long lashes from upside-down for the last five hours so really, the only action he can logically take is to sprawl out on a bed (Harry’s, but it’s not the first time and Harry is not going to mind) and wank to graphic thoughts of Zayn going down on him.

*

“Zayn’s coming over tonight. We’re celebrating passing that bloody exam.”

“Okay?”

“Lou.”

“Yes?”

“Louis.”

“Harry.”

“Do not.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Lou, he’s my only friend you haven’t slept with.”

“It’s not my fault you keep becoming friends with attractive people. Unless… Was that a subtle way of telling me to back off?”

“What? No! God, no. Zayn’s like… a brother.”

“Well, then. I’d very much like to touch that brother’s ding-a-ling.”

“Oh, gross. I mean, I’d say good luck, but I don’t really mean it and previous experience has taught me that you do actually end up rubbing genitals with most people you want no matter what I say, so…”

“Rubbing genitals, honestly, H, it’s like you’re 70 sometimes.”

“Says the guy who literally just used the word ding-a-ling.”

“It’s called irony!”

“You might wanna look up the definition of that word before trying to sleep with an English major.”

*

The thing about getting high is that it always makes Louis horny; it doesn’t necessarily get him begging and desperate, but it does give him that slight itch under his skin, the tingle in his lips and fingers, makes him want to be kissed and touched and made out with. With Harry not really being into anything other than cuddling and Zayn sitting prettily next to him, it’s really not that surprising that he ends up with his hand on the inside of Zayn’s thigh and his lips trailing up the long line of Zayn’s neck. And when Zayn’s only reaction is to snake one arm around Louis’ waist as he blows smoke out in a cloud above their heads, it’s only logical for Louis to climb up onto his lap and kiss him properly.

Zayn’s lips are dry and chapped and he tastes of tobacco and pot and his beard is scratchy under Louis’ hands and he kisses slowly, lazily, languidly, almost absently, with a lot of tongue and a lot of spit; Louis can’t get enough of it. He’s hard, but not uncomfortably so, mostly just interested in chasing the smoke around Zayn’s mouth. Time flows slowly when he’s high, in little droplets instead of a stream, and he doesn’t know how long he stays lost in the feeling of Zayn’s lips on his, the silky touch of Zayn’s hair when he runs his fingers through it, the way Zayn’s body melts under him. He doesn’t notice when Harry leaves, doesn’t notice when they take the last hit, doesn’t notice when it gets dark outside.

What he does notice is Zayn’s hands steadying his hips when he tries to grind down. He can feel the hard line of Zayn’s cock against his own through the soft material of their joggers, the heat coming from it, the short breaths leaving Zayn’s lips, but he stops and backs off, wraps his arms around Zayn’s neck and goes back to just kissing him.

*

“I don’t sleep with just anyone.”

“Alright.”

“I barely know you. I’m not gonna have sex with you. Yet.”

“Got it.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

“Okay. This is good though, yeah?”

“Yeah, this is fine.”

“Okay, then. Glad we cleared that up.”

*

It’s kind of a thing after that, them smoking up together to celebrate passing exams and calm their nerves before having exams and help each other study for exams and forget that they have exams. Zayn says it’s not, but it totally is. He’s in Louis and Harry’s room more nights than he isn’t, shaking with anxiety or gushing with relief depending on the day while Louis gets a bowl and a lighter. Then he’s just there, floating and ethereal like the smoke that surrounds them. Weed makes him lazy and sluggish and sleepy; it doesn’t get him horny like Louis. It does however make him more open to kissing, so Louis doesn’t complain since he ends up getting a good snog in most of the time anyway.

He thinks it might stop after the finals, after they’ve all gone home and come back, when there’s no longer any exams to use as an excuse to get high together. He should have expected Zayn to be the kind to stress all the time and need someone to keep things in perspective for him. He _really_ should’ve expected himself to want to be that person.

The thing is that he likes Zayn. And not just the cut of his cheekbones or the pout of his lips as he blows out smoke or the clench of his jaw when he holds back moans or the yield of his skin under Louis’ fingers. Louis _likes_ Zayn. The way he likes Harry and Nick and Lou and Liam and Gemma; he likes spending time with Zayn and talking to him, getting high with him and laughing at things that probably aren’t even that funny. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have sex with Zayn, it’s just that even when that keeps not happening, he doesn’t want to stop seeing Zayn because he’s rather enjoying the chase. He wonders if this is what it’s like to date someone, how different it would feel if he were in love.

It’s easy to be friends with Zayn. Louis wouldn’t have guessed it, but they’re actually quite similar, share a lot of the same interests and move in a lot of the same circles. It’s actually quite surprising they hadn’t met before they did. It’s not the kind of friendship Louis has with Harry, the kind where he feels like they can talk about anything, stay up all night and say whatever is on their minds with no shame or fear. It’s not the balance between his recklessness and Liam’s responsibility, it’s not the easy fun of his friendship with Niall or the push and pull that he has with Nick. It’s all of it and none of it at the same time; it’s supergluing the sleeves of every shirt Liam owns and it’s talking about family at two in the morning; it’s Zayn taking Louis to his room when Louis is too drunk to even stand on his own and it’s Louis making Zayn forget that he’s missed a deadline; it’s Zayn explaining the background of a comic for four hours just so they can read the new issue together; it’s Zayn designing new tattoos and it’s Louis making fun of the faces he pulls while he gets one of them; it’s sitting together in comfortable silence, each lost to their own thoughts but not alone.

What it isn’t, is sex. It’s not that Louis minds, he has no shortage of willing partners and he’d never force anyone into something that makes them uncomfortable. He doesn’t _need_ to have sex with Zayn in particular. It’s just that, well, Zayn is hot. He’s everything Louis likes in a boy and then some and he kisses like he’d know how to drive Louis wild without even trying, so. Louis _wants_ to have sex with him, just to see if it's as good as he's been imagining.

He doesn’t even know if that is an option. He and Zayn don’t really talk about things like that; there’s a tacit agreement between them that they don’t _need_ to discuss who they are, they can just _be_ and while that kind of easy, unquestioning acceptance is something Louis definitely values in a friend, it’s putting some kinks in his plan now, and not the kind of kinks he likes.

He overhears things in conversations, picks up on some trends, pieces a few things together. He’s relatively certain from what he’s heard from Liam and Niall that Zayn hasn’t dated anyone in a while and he’s absolutely positive there aren’t any stories following him like the ones left in his own wake, but that doesn’t have to mean anything; Zayn might feel like he doesn’t have time for dating _right now_ and still want it in the long run or he could be a lot more careful about who he sleeps with than Louis is. Zayn might be expecting Louis to ask him out or he might just be looking for some fun that doesn’t include sex. It all might be a clue to what he’s looking for or it might mean nothing at all.

Whatever. Louis is not going to overthink it. Kissing Zayn may leave him sexually frustrated most nights, but it feels good and on the off chance that he can’t go out afterwards, his hand’s served him well for twenty years and it won’t stop now. Most nights, however, he just picks someone up, ends up having a quickie in some pub bathroom or waking up in somebody else’s bed. It’s really not a big deal.

*

“Is Zayn even into fucking boys or am I just wasting time angling for that?”

“ _What_.”

“What?”

“Why are you asking _me_ that?”

“Because, _Liam_ , you’re his friend.”

“So are you! Aren’t you?”

“I mean. Yeah, sure. I’d say we’re friends.”

“So why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Would be kinda awkward, don’t you think? Any time that topic could come up relatively naturally, he already has his tongue halfway down my throat.”

“Oh my God, stop talking.”

*

It’s not a secret that Louis likes sex; he doesn’t try to hide it. What most people don’t realise though is that the reason he sleeps with so many _different_ people is that after a while he finds them, well. Boring. Not necessarily boring as people (he’s good friends with Liam and Danielle after all and both of those started as one-night-stands), just boring as lovers. Sometimes it’s because the attraction turns out to have been mostly due to alcohol and sometimes it’s just because they aren’t what Louis is looking for. People wouldn’t guess it from how he acts, but he really is quite picky; it’s only Nick and Gemma that he sees on the regular because he needs someone versatile and willing to try new things, someone who’s good in bed and fun outside of it, someone he can have a smoke with after exchanging orgasms and unfortunately most people don’t fit those criteria. Zayn does though, the kind of chemistry they have is rare and not easy to find (Louis knows because he’s tried).

In the end, like most things between them, it’s simple.

They’re in Zayn’s room, marathoning _Jessica Jones_ instead of working on their respective projects, as responsible adults do. Zayn’s laptop is slipping into hibernation though, pushed aside to make space for them to lie down. Louis’ got one hand halfway up Zayn’s shirt and Zayn is straddling his waist, his arse pressed against Louis’ hard cock. Louis’ lips are already tingling from how long they’ve been kissing, from the quick nips of Zayn’s sharp teeth. The sweet taste of the joint they shared before stumbling into bed is almost gone from their mouths; Louis has sobered enough for the world not to look like a watercolour painting anymore, but he can still feel the high loosening his limbs, making everything feel a bit slow and fuzzy. It’s nothing new for them up until Louis feels Zayn’s fingers deftly undoing his belt and jeans. Louis has to check Zayn’s face for any signs of discomfort because any rutting and embarrassingly quick orgasms they’ve done before have been while they were fully clothed. Nothing about Zayn reads as a sign of distress though, not when he pulls down Louis’ jeans and pants, not when he rearranges them so he’s lying on his belly between Louis’ legs, not when he blows Louis slow and sloppy with spit gathering in the corners of his mouth and making everything messy and certainly not when he comes with a hand around his cock and the taste of Louis’ come still on both of their tongues.

It’s just a matter of logical progression from there.

*

“Holy shit, why haven’t we done that before?”

“This isn’t a thing, okay?”

“This definitely needs to be a thing.”

“Well, it’s not. I’m not, like. Holding your hand or paying for your drinks or some shit. I don’t _do that_. Date.”

“What about cuddling? I do quite enjoy a good cuddle after coming my brains out.”

“’suppose cuddling’s alright.”

“You _suppose_ , please. You’re a needier cuddler than me.”

“Whatever, this is still not _a thing_.”

*

Nothing much changes after that. They still do all the same things they always did together, they waste time in one of their rooms or they go out for an unhealthy lunch at the café where Harry sometimes picks up shifts. Zayn still hounds Louis about his deadlines and Louis still gets panicky calls at three in the morning before Zayn’s presentations; he still tags along when Zayn sneaks out to paint graffiti somewhere he shouldn’t in the middle of the night and he still calls Zayn to pick him up from parties when he’s too fuzzy to get himself back to his room. Zayn doesn’t drink so Louis always knows he has a sober friend to lean on when he needs one; Zayn always comes through for him too, doesn’t sleep through his calls like Liam or show up even more drunk than Louis himself like Niall or randomly go on rants about Louis’ _lifestyle_ like Harry does when he’s in a bad mood. It’s never awkward with Zayn, not even when Louis kisses him after he’s been kissing other people all night or lifts him up against the door of his room as soon as it’s closed and fucks him while he can still taste the girl he ate out earlier that night. Zayn knows, he must know from the condoms in Louis’ wallet that aren’t for them or how he finds Louis already lubed and open after a night out, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Louis appreciates that.

So nothing really changes. Zayn doesn’t ask for more than what they are, they don’t go on romantic dates or mark anniversaries or anything. They’re still friends, they just fuck sometimes now.

*

“You’re sleeping with other people, right?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Occasionally.”

“I’m careful, you know. Get tested regularly and use protection with people I don’t know and all that. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Nah, I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Okay then. We’re good?”

“Yeah, of course.”

*

Louis doesn’t really feel the need to clarify anything about their relationship until much later. It’s pretty obvious to him what they are, pretty obvious to all their friends too probably. He doesn’t really think much about it after it starts, is the thing, everything just falls into place so easily, so perfectly, that there’s never any doubt in his mind that he and Zayn are on the same page. Sure, between filling Niall’s shoes with nearly rotten bananas and posing for Harry’s portfolio photos and just plain hanging out, they spend most of their time together, just the two of them or in the company of mutual friends, and sure, Louis would wager that there are few people who know him better than Zayn at this point, but everything between them is either friendly or sexual, never even coming close to being romantic enough to make Louis want to end it; in fact, he wonders now how he ever thought that might end up being a problem between them.

It’s not until over a year after they’ve met when Zayn’s mother is visiting and Louis and Liam somehow end up part of their brunch that Louis begins to wonder why exactly they’ve fallen so easily into this thing they have. It’s just an off-hand comment Zayn’s mother makes, a mention of Louis as Zayn’s boyfriend when she sees how comfortable they are being physical, how their thighs press together and how Zayn’s hand fits on Louis’ bicep, she probably doesn’t mean anything by it and Zayn plays it off so well, doesn’t make it seem like a big deal while also not making a point of correcting her, but Louis catches it. That brief second where Zayn looks like he’s going to say something, how he tenses for just a moment, how he subtly shifts further away from Louis. The way his eyes narrow and how his smile is just that little bit forced in the corners. The little things that give him away.

It’s the same look Louis knows he wears whenever one of his younger sisters makes an unwitting comment about his falling in love, settling down, finding _the one_.

*

“Zayn?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you like… Wow, this is more awkward than I thought it would be. I know we’re not really the kind to, like, _talk_ , but is there a chance you might— Um.”

“Fuck’s sake, Lou, spit it out, I need to be up in five hours and I’d really like to actually get some sleep.”

“Are you maybe aromantic or something?”

“Oh.”

“’cause you know I am too, right?”

“You are?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Oh_. Well.”

“Yeah, so…”

“Okay. That’s— That’s definitely good to know.”

“We should’ve talked about this sooner, shouldn’t’ve we?”

“Probably. Not gonna turn all sappy on me over this bonding moment now, are you?”

“Oh, sod off, you’re the one clinging onto my arm like I’m gonna fly away if you let go.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“I just might.”

“What are you gonna do, fuck my mouth until I lose my voice?”

“…“

“Okay, we’re totally doing that.”

*

Louis doesn’t know what’s going to happen after he finishes his last year in a few weeks. He doesn’t plan on leaving Zayn behind or changing what they’ve been doing just as much as he doesn’t plan on taking those options away from Zayn. He expects it all to work out on its own, naturally, like it always has so far. What they have between them, it’s not something everyone understands, some of their friends included, but it’s working for them. Zayn’s grades are steady, he hasn’t had a screaming match with his books since the day he met Louis and Louis’ sex life has never been better. They're both happy with what they have. Louis figures that has to count for something too.

*

“Fuck, I’m really glad I met you.”

“Zayn, I’m literally balls-deep inside you here, mate, is this _really_ the right time?”

“Just thought you should— _fuck, harder_ — should know, you’re probably the best I’ve had in a while, _Jesus_.”

“I’m the _only_ you’ve had in a while.”

“Sem— _oh, fucking hell_ — Semantics.”

“Some English major you are. ’s not what semantics, _ooh_ , means.”

“Give me a break, ‘m a bit busy.”

“Feeling’s mutual by the way. And you’re _not_ the only one I’ve had in a while. But it’s always good with you.”

“Shouldn’t stop then.”

“Definitely not gonna stop.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://captivekinqs.tumblr.com)


End file.
